A Comedy of Tennis
by shinigami-lives
Summary: Only a few weeks after Seigaku's victory at Nationals, Ryoma's family conspire to make his life far more complicated. And in doing so, force him to get far better acquainted with his former opponents.
1. Chapter 1 - (Mis)Communication

AN. I don't own (obviously)

**Chapter One - (Mis)Communication**

It was scarcely a fortnight after Seigaku's victory at Nationals that practice was interrupted by Horio, who had been fetching spare balls, running onto the courts where the regulars were practicing to yell,

"Echizen, your phone won't stop ringing!"

One might wonder why, having just won the national tournament, Seigaku's regulars were still practicing. However, for most of the tennis team, a small trifling matter like having won all the competitions for that year was no reason to stop tennis practice. Ryoma tended to agree. In his opinion, the only decent reason for stopping tennis practice was some kind of major injury or natural disaster. Indeed, as he had been known to continue playing despite a gushing head wound, as far as he was concerned, major injuries should only come in the way of playing tennis if they meant that he was not physically able to hold his racket.

The only problem with this situation was that, as far as Tezuka-buchou was concerned, continuing tennis practice after nationals meant continuing with the same level of discipline. Tezuka-buchou had particular views on matters like personal phone calls during practice time. As Horio, whose sense of self-preservation had never been very reliable, waved the bleeping phone in Ryoma's face, the freshman winced at the expression on the captain's face. It was, he reflected, remarkable how Tezuka-buchou could frown so fiercely without actually changing his expression at all.

"Echizen, fssh.."

"Nya, Ochibi's popular"

Sensing laps in his near future, Ryoma tugged his cap down slightly as he turned towards Tezuka-buchou.

"Echizen, the rules about personal phone calls during club time are still the same, even if we have finished Nationals"

As the sunlight glinted ominously on Tezuka-buchou's glasses, Ryoma attempted to arrange his features into a suitable contrite formation.

"Gomen, buchou..."

Before he could say anymore, Momo-sempai, with whom he had been practicing, came up behind him, grinding his knuckles down on the top of his cap,

"Oi, Echizen, who's calling you? Is it a girlfriend?"

Chaos erupted.

"Probability Echizen is hiding a girlfriend, 42%, iie data."

"RYOMA-SAMA!"

Sensing buchou's rapidly declining temper, and the increasing likelihood of many laps in his future, Ryoma shrugged out from Momo-sempai's grip.

"Yadda."

Then he thought about it and turned apologetically to Tezuka-buchou,

"I think it might be kaa-san, she's the only person who has my number who'd ring during practice, but she wouldn't ring if it wasn't important."

Oishi-sempai immediately looked concerned

"Well, if it's a family emergency, he should answer, Tezuka."

Sighing, Tezuka-buchou nodded and gestured to Ryoma his permission to take the phone from Horio, before turning his glower on the rest of the regulars.

"Why have you all stopped practicing? A phone call is no reason to get careless!"

Watching his sempai return to their practice with an excessive degree of energy and enthusiasm, Ryoma took his phone and, not glancing at the screen, accepted the call.

"Kaa-san?"

"What kind of way is that to greet your brother, chibisuke?"

"How did you get this number?"

"You know, it's really sad to remember when you used to be so much more cute"

Ryoma had a moment's sympathy for Tezuka-buchou and the amount of time he spent pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Isn't it still the middle of the night in New York?"

"You're still no fun at all. I'm in Tokyo"

"Why"

"You could at least pretend to sound pleased to see me. Anyway, I have news. I'm getting married"

Despite himself, Ryoma felt his eyebrows rise. Before he could say anything, Ryoga continued,

"She's amazing. She's been out in New York for her PhD, but she wanted to come back to Japan to get married so she could see her family. Anyway, she wants to meet you and the old man as well, so we're all meeting for dinner with her parents and her younger brother."

"When...?"

But Ryoga had already hung up, possibly humming under his breath. It was more than a little disturbing, and made him reflect on the resemblance between his brother and their perverted old man. He stared at his phone for a moment, before the feeling of eyes on him made him look up. The whole team was staring, and having a variety of success in how well they did at pretending not to. Tezuka-buchou on the other hand was not even pretending to look away, and his face was set into an expression that promised dire punishment in the form of laps, and, possibly, Inui juice.

"Echizen, 50 laps after practice. Now get back to your match."

**irupinet**tenipuri**irupinet**tenipuri**irupinet**tenipuri**irupinet**tenipuri**irupinet**tenipuri**irupinet**tenipuri

By the time he returned home that evening, Ryoma was thoroughly annoyed. Momo-sempai had not stopped smirking and teasing him all the way through the rest of their practice match. Eventually, Ryoma had gotten so irritated with his sempai that he viciously crushed him in straight games. This had done nothing to stop Momo-sempai's teasing, but had earned a disapproving frown from Tezuka-buchou, although thankfully no more laps.

After practice, he had dutifully, if irritably run the fifty laps he had been assigned for a phone call that wasn't even his fault, at the end of which only Tezuka-buchou and Oishi-sempai remained behind to lock up the courts and the clubhouse. He had then suffered through a brief lecture from Tezuka-buchou on the rules prohibiting personal phone calls during club hours, finished off with a few brief but stinging words on the meaning of teamwork, the purpose of practice matches, and the importance of not allowing his temper to affect his tennis.

Momo-sempai had earlier pestered Eiji-sempai into treating him to burgers, which meant that Ryoma couldn't steal a ride home on the back of his bike, although it also saved him from his sempai's constant pestering about his conversation with Ryoga. Nonetheless, having to walk home after practice and fifty extra laps put him in no particular good mood, so that, by the time he slouched through the front door, he wasn't keen to do anything except have dinner and go to bed, not even interested in the possibility of goading his old man into a match.

Unfortunately, even here his luck seemed to be against him. The dining table was set for a fancy dinner and both his parents and Nanako-san were sitting there waiting for him, his old man making a few pointed comments about bad mannered brats who kept everybody waiting. Through his irritation, he dimly noted that it was unusual for Nanako-san to be home, as she had recently spent most of her time out with her friends from university.

When he washed up and joined the rest of the family for dinner, Nanako-san seemed to be fairly vibrating with excitement, and his old man was grinning even more idiotically than usual. Finally, his mother spoke,

"Ryoma-kun, we have some exciting family news"

It took all his strength of will not to roll his eyes.

"Aa, the wedding."

There was a blissful moment of silence as everyone else at the table stared at him.

"But how do you know already?" Nanako burst out.

Somewhat confused Ryoma answered, "Ryoga-niisan called me. During practice."

Even his old man seemed confused now, and his mother eventually asked, "But, why does Ryoga-san know?"

Ryoma had just about had enough of this whole wedding lark, and it was only the first day he knew about it, "Well, it's his wedding, isn't it?"

"Eh, that brat's engaged? And he didn't tell me?"

The old man's exaggerated wail did nothing to help Ryoma understand what was going on. "That's what he said. What were you talking about?"

Nanako-san beamed, her confusion not lasting long in the face of her excitement. "We wanted to tell you. I'm getting married. Nobuyuki-kun proposed today!"

Ryoma felt a headache coming on. Not two weddings. He didn't think he could cope with just one.

R&R

AN. There is a (nerdy) hint to the identity of one of the fiancés. Cookies to whoever guesses!


	2. Kirihara Akaya's No Good, Very Bad Day

**Chapter Two** - **Kirihara Akaya and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day**

Rikkaidai's second-year ace Kirihara Akaya was having an extremely bad day. To be exact, it was more like he was having several days worth of extremely bad day, all piled up together on the same day. There were multiple reasons for this.

Reason number One: Contrary to all expectations, and a training schedule that had actually been known to make sub-regulars retire from the tennis club in tears, vowing never even to look at a tennis racket again and then developing an unprecedented interest in stamp-collecting, Rikkaidai had not won at nationals that year. This defeat in itself was reason enough for multiple bad days. Akaya didn't know anyone in the school tennis circuit who actually _liked_ losing. Even if he himself had not, as rumour (almost certainly started by Niou-sempai) suggested that Yukimura-buchou and Sanada-san had done, sworn a blood oath to be champions, the taste of defeat was not one he enjoyed.

In addition to the individual blow of defeat, the consequences of Seigaku's nationals victory were making themselves very plain to Rikkai's regulars. Tennis practice continued after nationals, as was usual but, unlike their post-victory practices. These had in previous years been presided over by a benevolently smiling Yukimura-buchou, while even Sanada-san scowled less ferociously as he ordered them to run laps, because "Victory was no excuse for slacking off."

The consequences of defeat however, made tennis practice anything but a pleasant experience, as any veneer of benevolence had utterly disappeared from Yukimura-buchou's dictatorship. If it had been physically possible, the practices the team was currently enduring were even more draining (and traumatising for the weak-willed) than those which had dominated the weeks leading up to nationals.

This led to problem number two: Akaya was failing English. This was not in itself a new problem, nor one that even loomed very high on his list of priorities, English being a senseless language invented solely for the purpose of taking away valuable time that should be spent playing tennis. However, Akaya's new English teacher was making this a more immediate difficulty.

Having slumped into the classroom and promptly fallen asleep at his desk after a particularly gruelling morning practice (See problem number 1), Akaya had not been overjoyed to be woken by the return of his last English test, with a big, fat, red zero scrawled at the top. He didn't think he actually remembered having taken the test, and, looking at the paper, there was a good chance he had slept through most of it. However, Taylor-sensei did not practice the usual punishment of assigning lines and then releasing Akaya to tennis practice, no, she instead kept him behind after class, to discuss his "problem".

Akaya had slouched at his desk and attempted to look as disinterested as possible, while Taylor-sensei tidied the contents of her briefcase. Finally, his patience (a limited resource at best) came to an end,

"So, can I go now? I'm late for practice."

Taylor-sensei put her pen down and fixed him with a determined glare,

"Certainly not. In fact, given your last test results, it's your tennis practice that I need to talk to you about."

Akaya experience a sudden surge of disquiet. Participation in sports' teams was, notionally, conditional on academic performance, but most of the faculty at Rikkai were willing to ignore the occasional failing grade in exchange for the tennis team providing a full trophy cabinet. As if in answer to his fears, the teacher continued.

"You have been failing to pass this class for most of the last year. However, certain of your sempai have produced compelling arguments to the faculty for your continuing participation on the tennis team."

This was, Akaya reflected absently, the closest he had ever heard any of the school staff come to admitting that even the faculty was terrified of Yukimura-buchou's wrath. Taylor-sensei, however, was not finished yet.

"While I did not personally agree with permitting you to continue to play tennis despite your grades in English, the decision was out of my hands. As the tournament season, I understand, has now ended, however, I am in a position to make my objections plain. Furthermore, it has been suggested that you are going to captain the tennis team over the next year, and while certain members of the faculty support your continuing to play tennis notwithstanding academic considerations, it has been agreed that you cannot take such a position of responsibility within the club if you cannot improve your English grades."

Akaya felt the familiar heat burning behind his eyes and struggled to control it. This situation could not be improved by hitting Taylor-sensei in the head with a tennis ball. The new English teacher was herself British, and, according to Yanagi-sempai, had graduated from England's prestigious Oxford University - her teaching at Rikkaidai was considered something of a coup by the faculty, and had been trumpeted widely to parents and alumni. He stifled the burning in his eyes, which was rage, and definitely not suppressed tears. He didn't even want to imagine telling Yukimura-buchou that he could not take responsibility for the team because he was failing English. That would have been an unpleasant conversation even if Rikkai had been victorious at nationals.

Looking at the second-year student in front of her, Taylor-sensei felt an upsurge of pity. The attention and preference given to sports at Rikkaidai had been annoying her for most of the year, particularly when she had been coerced into giving students undeserved grades in order to guarantee their participation in school sports. However, she had observed that the tennis club were really passionate about the sport and practiced with an almost fanatical devotion. Prohibiting Kirihara-kun from playing tennis was also unlikely to make him any more enthusiastic about his studies in the long-run. Although she knew little enough about tennis, except for the Wimbledon trivia that had tended to dominate English newspapers during key weeks in June, she had heard enough gossip in the faculty room to understand that the tennis team at Rikkaidai played to an exceptionally high standard and that several of the regulars, including Kirihara-kun were considered to have a decent shot at a professional career. She softened slightly.

"Look, at this point in the year, even if your grades improve dramatically in your next test, it is unlikely you will be able to score well enough to get permission to captain your tennis team."

Akaya drooped visibly over his desk before the teacher continued.

"However, if you produce a piece of written work to a suitable standard for extra credit I am willing to withdraw my objections to your extracurricular commitments."

The second-year perked up so fast that for a moment she was worried he might have sprained something.

"What do I have to do, sensei?"

You could not, she reflected, fault his work ethic when his tennis was involved. That was probably the only way to make him enthusiastic about any of his academic subjects. That gave her an idea.

"If you can, over the next month, write me a piece of English prose, of around 500 words, to an acceptable standard of grammar and vocabulary, on any subject related to tennis, I think we can call it even."

Akaya had bowed his thanks enthusiastically and raised from the classroom in significantly higher spirits than he had been in when he entered. Even English, he was sure, could be made bearable if it was applied to tennis

However, he still had to deal with problem number three: he was now late for tennis practice. This was bad enough in any circumstances, but, after the shock defeat at nationals (see problem 1) any hint of slackness was punished, severely. As Akaya raced to practice, accidentally knocking down two or three freshmen who didn't get out of the way quickly enough, he reflected that his tardiness was not going to improve Yukimura-buchou's temper when he had to ask his permission to be excused from practice the following day.

He was correct. Arriving on the courts to discover that he was the last of the team to appear, he was met with a scowl from Sanada-san which was impressive even for his sempai.

"Akaya, forty laps for tardiness."

When, instead of immediately beginning his laps, Akaya steeled himself to approach Sanada-san and Yukimura-buchou at the side of the court, that scowl only became more fearsome. The fact that he was still on crutches did not make Sanada-san any less intimidating, but only heightened his ire at not being able to play tennis himself, as well as providing him with potential weapons. It was something of an accomplishment that Sanada could make crutches look threatening.

"Akaya, I believe Genichirou assigned you laps."

Yukimura's tone was level, and even, and fooling nobody.

"Ah, yes."

"So, you're not running them, because?"

"I need to ask your permission to be excused from practice tomorrow."

Akaya reflected that he had not thought it possible for Sanada-san's expression to get more ominous. He quickly continued.

"It's just. Um. My sister's just got engaged, and we have to go up to Tokyo for some party. And kaa-san said she'd lock my tennis rackets in the shed if I didn't come. I really don't want to?"

Thankfully, Yukimura-buchou looked somewhat amused by this.

"In that case, of course you must go. What a coincidence though."

It was only morbid curiosity that made Akaya ask, "A coincidence, buchou?"

Yukimura smiled his most terrifying smile. "Ah, yes. Genichirou was just telling me that he has to go to his brother's engagement party tomorrow."

Akaya paled. "No way. My sister's getting married to some guy she met in America. Err. Not that there's anything wrong with Sanada-san's brother. I'm sure lots of people want to marry him. Um. Laps. I'll go run those laps."

He sped off, before Sanada-san could assign him more laps, or beat him unconscious with his crutches.

Perhaps the only good thing about that day was that it appeared that Yukimura-buchou was now laughing uncontrollably.

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